


A Different Shade by R'rain

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Jim's looking through Blair's photo album, he discovers something his roomate has been keeping secret.  Life goes about as usual, though.  Or does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Shade by R'rain

DISCLAIMER: Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg along with Simon, Taggert, Brown, Ryf, Carolyn, Sam, Naomi, Stephen and the Sentinel concept are the property of Pet Fly Productions and UPN. No copyright infringement intended. 

Forgive me for my prolonged absence but Mysti's laid claim on just about everything I came up with and/or wrote between May and now [wave to Mysti, virtual chocolates to Editor. She probably would have gotten this one too but for the fact that I am in *serious* feedback withdrawal!] (hint hint) Special thanks to all my beta readers, especially Merry (wave), who saw this in various stages of completion and never once (well, maybe once) complained about how long it was taking to get done. Enjoy! 

## A Different Shade

by R'rain  


//Where the hell is that magazine?// Jim leafed through the bookcase in the living room for the third time but the issue of Time he was searching for still wasn't there. //Did Sandburg borrow it? I think I remember him borrowing it...// Feeling a little bit guilty, he opened the door to Blair's room and peeked inside. The bookcase was predictably overflowing with texts, articles, and the occasional journal. He was going to have to sift through it *all*. 

Groaning aloud, he pushed the door open all the way, kneeling down on the floor in front of the book case and beginning to sort through the mess. //Anthropological Digest. Another Anthropological Digest. What's this a copy of? "The Philosophy of the Navaho Indians." I am *never* going to find it in this mess.// Eventually, though, he saw the corner of it peeking out of some sort of binder. Pulling it out with relief he saw a photograph flutter to the floor. He picked it up and looked at it, grinning goofily when he realized what it was. "Oh, Blair," he said aloud, stifling a laugh, "Ohhhh, Blair." Holding the magazine in one hand, he picked up the photo album in the other and opened the front cover. There was Blair, probably less than a year old, sitting naked in the bathtub. He looked so innocent and adorable that Jim had to laugh; the guy hadn't changed a bit. Well, expect for the fact that nowadays the innocent look was feigned more often than not. 

He closed the album and took it with him into the living room, first putting the magazine on the kitchen table to remind himself to take it to the station the next day. He snagged a chocolate chip cookie off the plate on the table and began munching on it as he opened the album again. //Did Blair make these? They're really good.// He grinned at the picture again before turning the page and beginning to slowly leaf through the book. He tenderly smiled his way through the pre-teen years and had to laugh at poor, pubescent Blair--all hair and buckteeth and pudgy limbs. Not at all like the Blair who shared an apartment with him. 

He heard a key in the lock and quickly dropped the photo album to the coffee table, looking around frantically for something to make it look like he'd been otherwise occupied. There was nothing readily at hand, so when Blair opened the door and entered the loft he was sitting guiltily on the couch with the photo album closed in front of him. 

"Jim, man," said Blair without looking at him, "what's up?" 

"Oh, nothing," he said, lacing his fingers behind his head, "just sitting here thinking." 

"Well, good for you. You need to relax more often. What were you thinking about?" He dropped a paper bag of groceries onto the kitchen counter. An image of Blair in his mother's dress with pearls and red lipstick unexpectedly popped into Jim's head and he started laughing. Blair whirled to look at him. "What's so funny? Did Anderson tell a new joke at the station or something?" As he looked at his partner, expecting an answer, his eyes fell upon the photo album. "What's that?" 

Jim tried to snatch it up but Blair was too quick, rushing over and grabbing it out of Jim's hands before he got a firm grip. "Jim, this is *mine*. It was in my room. What are you doing with it?" 

"I'm sorry, Blair, I really am," he said rapidly, "I needed to find my Time article--Jakubowski's never seen it--and I remembered that you had wanted to reread it, and..." 

"You couldn't have waited 'til I got home and asked?" 

"How was I supposed to know you were going to be home so soon? Usually when you say you're going to the library, it means that you're going to be gone all day and halfway through the night." 

"I wish you'd asked." 

"I'm sorry." 

"And that still doesn't explain why you have my photo album..." 

"The magazine was stuffed inside, see, and when I grabbed it this picture fell out and...I couldn't resist." He looked up at Blair apologetically and was surprised to see the younger man smiling. 

"What, you found something so terribly amusing you had to burst out laughing?" 

"Well...yeah," admitted Jim. He took the book back and opened it to the page where he had replaced the loose picture. Blair took one look and burst out laughing as well. 

"Oh, man, you had to find *that* one, didn't you. That's even worse than the ones mom insisted on showing you." He reached out to hold one side of the album and sat down on the couch next to Jim. "That was when I was...eight? Nine? I can't even remember exactly." 

Jim turned the page and Blair winced. "Can we just, like, skip the next few years? Say until I'm fifteen or so?" 

Jim flashed him a sympathetic smile, "Sorry, I've already looked. But I don't think we need to go through it again." 

"Someday you're going to have to show me *your* childhood pictures," said Blair sulkily. "This really isn't fair you know." 

"Life isn't fair, Sandburg," said Jim, skimming past a number of pages, "and the chances of you finding a picture of me before I'm fourteen is about as likely as you being hit by lightning. Got that?" 

"Loud and clear," said Blair with a grin. "That bad, were they?" 

Jim didn't answer, and stopped on a page with a picture of Blair and Naomi somewhere in a jungle. "Where's this?" 

"Brazil," said Blair immediately. "Naomi took me down there right before I started my junior year in high school; she had a couple of friends she wanted to visit and I just wanted something to do for the summer. 

"Ah," said Jim, flipping slowly through the pages of Blair's high school days. "You know, you do look better with long hair. Remind me not to bug you about that again." 

"I'm gonna hold you to that!" Suddenly Blair became pale and tried to pull the book away. "Maybe we should do this some other time," he said. "I still need to put those groceries away and you, you have to..." 

"I don't have anything else to do," said Jim, laughingly pulling the album back. "What are you trying to hide from me, Sandburg?" 

"Jim, you have no right!" he protested as Jim turned the page. There it was--a picture of Blair in a tux, his arm around another boy about his age, wearing matching corsages. 

"Blair...?" 

"That's...that's David. He was my...my date. For the junior prom. Well, sort of. I mean we both had other dates too but we were really going together and--oh shit, Jim, I meant to tell you. I really did, but it never really came up and, well, I didn't know what you'd think or how you'd feel about it." 

"Shut up, Blair, I'm thinking." Blair snapped his mouth shut and Jim sat there with a look of pure concentration on his face. "Naomi knew?" 

"She's the one who took the picture." 

"I really don't get this Blair. I mean, you're not gay, you date women all the time." Jim frowned and ran a hand over his face. 

"I'm bi, Jim," he said with a sigh. "I've known since I was about thirteen years old. It's not like I date men often, just sometimes. I know I should have said something to you, living with you and all. But it was just too easy not to, you know what I mean?" Blair stood up and started pacing the living room, "I liked that you treated me like I was just one of the guys. I didn't want that to change." 

"Do a lot of people know?" 

Blair shrugged. "Does it matter? Most of my friends do, some of my students. My family. A lot of fellow grad students and professors. A couple of guys at the station." 

"Guys at the *station*?" 

"Yeah. Jim, does that really bother you?" 

Jim had to think about it. "A little. Yeah. You should have told me." 

"Yes, according to my *own* moral code I should have told you. But I wasn't under any obligation, you know. I don't know everything about you either, and I know you're not just going to up and tell me one day." 

"No, I guess not. But with us living together, and people knowing about you, people are going to wonder about me." 

Blair had to laugh. "Jim, *no*body is ever going to wonder about you. You're straight as an arrow and it shows, buddy. Besides, I've dated women pretty much exclusively since we met. People know that." 

"How did they find out?" 

"Who?" 

"The guys at the station. The ones who know." 

"Well, one of them I met at a party; he's is dating an ex-boyfriend of mine. And, um, the other one I ran into at the bar one night." 

"Who? Who are they?" 

Blair shook his head. "That's not my right to tell you, man. If they want to come out to you, that's their business." 

"I guess that's fair. It's just..." 

"You're uncomfortable," filled in Blair. "That's pretty clear to me." 

"Blair, you don't understand." 

"I don't understand?" 

"Yeah, I'm uncomfortable. Fine, I can admit that. I'm uncomfortable because I've never really had anyone who was gay or bi for a friend before. But I'm *more* uncomfortable that you felt you couldn't tell me." 

"You are?" 

"Yeah, I am. I kinda got the feeling we could tell one another anything, Chief. I counted on it. Hell, I even told you about my family, and not even Simon or *Carolyn* knew anything about that. I thought you felt the same way." 

"I did--I do! It's just...I thought this would be different...for you." Blair gave a small shrug and smiled timidly. "Guess I was wrong." 

"Guess you were. Blair, I can't say I'm completely comfortable knowing that about you, but I'm glad I do. Can I ask you something?" 

"Anything, man. Anything." 

"Have you been with any guys since you moved in here?" 

Blair blushed a little. "Once," he admitted. "I was seeing this guy last year for a while, but it didn't work out." 

"Did you ever, you know, sleep with him? In the apartment?" 

Blair laughed. "Jim, I never slept with him period. Like I said, we didn't really click." He pulled the album out of Jim's hands. "I'm going to put this away. I think it's gotten me into enough trouble for one afternoon." 

"Blair," said Jim, "I meant it when I said I'm glad I know. I know, I know, it's no big deal and all. But next time, just tell me. All right?" 

"All right," said Blair as he disappeared into his room. He emerged a moment later. "But the same goes for you." 

"It's a deal. So what are you doing tonight?" 

"Got a date, man. Nine o'clock and if I'm late one more time she'll not only dump me, she'll tear my reputation to shreds just for the hell of it." He looked at Jim's slightly disappointed look. "But hey, I'm here for dinner. Don't worry, if you want time to talk I can make the time." 

Jim nodded and roused himself from the couch, going into the kitchen to begin unpacking Blair's groceries. "I'm fine with this, Blair. Really." 

"Well, okay," said Blair dubiously. "Let me do that. You don't need to be taking care of my stuff." 

"I don't mind. At least this way I get to organize the fridge the way I like it." Blair snorted and shook his head. "So this woman you're going out with tonight, do I know her?" 

"Um, yeah." 

Jim looked up in response to Blair's guilty tone. "Oh it's not Samantha again, is it?" Blair didn't answer. "It is, isn't it. You, my friend, are a masochist," said Jim disgustedly. 

Blair shrugged. "I like her. What can I say?" 

"She may be my friend," said Jim, "but I try to keep myself as far as I can from that woman's claws." 

"Come on, Jim. She's not *that* bad." Jim looked at him dubiously, but decided he wasn't going to convince him no matter what he said. When Blair saw he wasn't going to answer, he went into his room. A few moments later Jim heard him asking, "Shit, what am I going to wear?" 

"Depends on where you're going," answered Jim, remembering to raise his voice so that Blair could hear him. "Is it somewhere nice?" 

"*Every*where is somewhere nice to Sam." 

Jim just shook his head and continued putting the groceries away. //Sometimes I'd really like to know what goes on in that boy's head.//  
  


* * *

"Hi, Jeanne," said Jim, handing her a rose, "Are you ready to go?"

"Sure," she said, and Jim tried to hide his wince as her high-pitched voice reverborated in his ears. "Got my purse, got my make-up, got my mints. Yep, ready to go?" She smiled brightly at him. 

"Great," said Jim, shaking his had sadly once she'd turned her back.  
  


* * *

Jim watched Blair make his way through the bullpen and waited until he was within what he estimated was normal hearing distance before speaking. "You're late."

"Sorry." Blair flushed a little. "Mary wanted to say good-bye properly." Jim gave him a disapproving look. "Hey! When she asked, I didn't know quite what she meant by 'properly'." 

Anderson laughed. "When women say proper they *mean* proper." 

"Yeah, man," said Blair ruefully, "I'm beginning to figure that out." 

"Which reminds me, Ellison, when are you going to find yourself a date for the annual Policeman's Ball?" 

Blair turned to his partner. "I didn't know you were having trouble finding a date, Jim." 

Anderson laughed and shook his head. "No, it's not that." Grabbing Blair by the sleeve he hauled him into a seat. 

"You don't need to be telling him this, Craig." 

"Oh yes I do! You see, Blair, 6 years running Jim has never come to the ball with the same date twice." 

"Not even Carolyn?" 

"Nope, and each year he somehow manages to top the last. So we're all waiting to see what he comes up with this year." Anderson looked up at Jim with a wicked smile on his face. Jim just shook his head and groaned. 

"This true, Jim?" 

"If he says it's true then it must be true," Jim replied with a shrug, turning back to his desk and ignoring them. 

"So, uh, Jim, what's on the agenda for this afternoon?" 

Jim looked pointedly at Anderson, who took the hint and made himself scarce with one last grin aimed in Jim's direction. "Simon wanted a little help on that string of robberies. He thinks maybe if we go through the evidence, we'll pick up something that forensics didn't." 

"You probably will," said Blair confidently. "Forensics has nothing on you, man. How soon can we go down?" 

"As soon as Simon gets back from lunch as gives us the key card. Did you get a chance to eat anything?" 

"Yeah, Mary bought me lunch," said Blair absently, leafing through the files on Jim's desk. 

"Well, I hope you don't mind if I eat in front of you, then," said Jim unwrapping a sandwich, "I haven't had a chance to stop for a break. Got any plans for tonight?" 

"Yeah," said Blair, "I'm taking Mary out to dinner and maybe out to a club afterwards. Why?" 

"No reason. I just got tickets to the Jags game tonight; I thought you might want to go with me." 

Blair looked crestfallen. "Tonight? Oh, man, any other night and I would have jumped at the chance, but there's no way I can cancel tonight. I have reservations and everything." 

"Reservations? Wow, you must really like this one." 

Blair shrugged. "Maybe." 

//Well, anyone's better than Sam. Thank God he finally had the sense to dump her after that date last week.// "Well, have a good time, then. Maybe I'll ask Simon to go with me." 

"I really am sorry. I do wish I could go." 

"Me, too, Chief. Maybe next time." Jim finished off the first half of his sandwich and licked the mayonnaise off his thumb. "Taggert says he might have another pair next Wednesday that he won't be able to use." 

"That would be great," said Blair enthusiastically. "We can make a night of it ... hey, Simon! Come on, Jim, let's get going." Jim marked a red star on Wednesday on his desk calendar, then followed his partner into Simon's office.  
  


* * *

"So what do you think of the Jags this season?" said Jim, putting his arm around Karen's shoulders.

"Sports? Me? You *must* be kidding." Karen made a jokingly disgusted face. "Give me a good concert any day. Speaking of which, you *did* manage to get symphony tickets, didn't you?" 

"Yeah," sighed Jim, "I got the tickets."  
  


* * *

"Oh, man, these are *great* seats!" enthused Blair, arranging his drink and backpack and jacket so that he could sit down comfortably. "How did Joel ever manage to get them?"

"I didn't ask." Jim held Blair's drink as he kept shifting. Finally he dropped his backpack to the floor and took his drink from Jim's waiting hand. "He's been getting 'em for years now, though." 

"Man, I wish I could've taken Meg to this. She *loves* basketball." 

"Meg?" 

"Yeah. That redhead I told you about last night?" 

"I get your redheads mixed up, Chief," he said. "Too bad you're stuck with me, though." 

"Oh, I wouldn't call it stuck," said Blair, smiling at him. Jim moved away uncomfortably, and Blair's smile faded quickly. "But I guess *you* would." 

Jim shook off the nerves and smiled reassuringly at him. "Would I have invited you if I hadn't wanted you here? Give me a sip of that Coke, would you?" 

"Yeah, sure." Blair's voice still wasn't as confident as Jim was used to. //Damn, I spooked him. I've gotta learn to relax about this. No big deal.// Jim took the drink and held it to his lips for a long moment before drinking, studying Blair while the chance presented itself. Blair was still shifting in his seat a little, even though all his things had been settled around him, and his eyes were fixed on the court. 

Jim handed the drink back. "You know, if you aren't all booked up, we could make a regular thing of this." 

"We could?" Blair turned toward him, startled, and Jim didn't know whether he was surprised that Jim still wanted him around, or surprised that he could get the tickets. "Doesn't Joel *ever* go to the games?" 

Jim laughed. "His wife made him promise to give up at least one set of tickets a week...seems he wasn't spending as much quality time with the missus as she wanted him too." 

Blair relaxed and grinned ruefully. "Oh, been *there*," he said, "been there *way* too many times." 

"And you're the one who's never been married," added Jim. 

"How do you know that?" 

"What?" 

"How do you know I've never been married?" 

Jim gaped at him. "Are you telling me you've been *married*, Chief?" 

"No, I'm not. What I am saying is that you don't *know* that." Blair stifled laughter at Jim's stricken expression. "Man, *relax* would you? I've never been married; I'm just trying to make a point. You've always had all these ideas about me, even since we met. Lighten up and just go with it!" 

Jim shook his head in confusion. //Where the hell is *this* coming from?// "Blair?" 

Blair sighed dramatically. "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't make assumptions about me. That's *all*." He punched Jim on the arm playfully. "Now relax and enjoy the game." 

"Yeah, sure." It was a few minutes until a smile found it's way back onto Jim Ellison's face, and another few before he was able to direct that smile Blair's way again. //What is it about him that sets me so off-balance?// 

"Jim? Are you even *watching*?" Blair's voice cut through his thoughts, and he focused back on the game that had just started. 

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Can I have some more of that drink?" 

Blair passed it over without a word. As Jim took another sip he realized he was tasting something besides the Coke. Thinking about it for a moment, he realized that what he was tasting was the residue that Blair's lips left on the straw. And that it wasn't an unpleasant taste at all. Taking another sip, he passed it back again. 

"So how's it going with--what's her name?--Meg?" 

"It's going good," he replied right away, then seemed to realize that it was more than just a polite question. "She's really nice, got a great sense of humour, loves to dance..." 

"Mmm, sounds nice. Say, did I tell you I got a letter from Carolyn today?" 

"You did?" 

"Yeah, you talking about Meg kinda reminded me. It's funny, but now that she isn't living around here anymore, we get along a lot better than we ever did. It's like...it's like now that she doesn't have any stake in me, whatever I do is okay. You know?" 

"It's interesting you should mention that now, Jim, 'cause I was just studying up on this tribe in Brazil and when a family structure breaks up there, the man is banished from the village. Now when I first heard about it I thought it was some kind of punishment, but really--" 

"Does this Meg always listen when you start going on like this?" interrupted Jim with a smirk to show he was teasing. 

"Every time, man," said Blair, laughing. "Doesn't she sound great?" 

"I don't really know her," said Jim. 

"Well then, I ought to introduce you," said Blair decisively. "You'd like her, Jim." 

"You always say that." 

"Wait a second, I *never* thought you'd like Sam. I didn't even *tell* you about Sam." 

"I *do* like Sam. Just not as a romantic partner." 

"You know, we're starting to have a really bad track record here." Blair didn't sound disappointed, just amused. "Guess we'll just have to see, won't we."  
  


* * *

"We'll need a meal and a blanket and some music and some wine and you'll need to dress nice and then we'll need some good walking shoes and some water and a towel and some bug spray. You can get all that, can't you?"

"By tomorrow? Yeah, I guess." He waited until he had turned away from Jenifer before closing his eyes and grimacing.  
  


* * *

Jim looked up at Blair from his seat on the couch. "Going out again tonight?" He folder the newspaper carefully and lay it on the coffee table.

"Yeah, and I'm running late. Have you seen my black shoes?" 

"Try your closet." 

"I've been *in* my closet for the last fifteen minutes. They are not there, man." He glanced at the wall clock. "Shit, I am *so* late." 

"I thought Meg wasn't a stickler about punctuality?" 

"I'm not going out with Meg anymore, and this is definitely *not* a good start for a first date. Are you sure you haven't seen them?" 

"Sorry, Chief, can't help you." 

"Damn! Can you tell if there's a car idling downstairs? Wait, it doesn't really matter, it won't make me go any faster. Can I wear brown with this? Oh, look who I'm asking. Never mind." 

Jim looked him up and down. "Only if it's dark enough," he said mildly, ignoring the insult. "Try those lace up leather ones of yours; they should do fine." 

"Yeah!" said Blair, "Thanks, Jim." He raced back into his room just as there was a knock at the door. Jim waited a moment for Blair to answer it, and when he realized the other man hadn't heard he got up himself and opened the door. 

"Yes?" he asked the young man on the other side. //Salesman? Surveyer? Jehovah's Witness?// 

"Um, hi. I'm looking for Blair Sandburg. Have I got the right place?" 

Jim leaned back into the apartment, and called out. "Blair! Door!" Then, all at once, he realized just why the young man was at the door. The middle height, sandy-haired man looking adorably intellectual with his round glasses perched on his nose. Quickly composing himself, he turned back and smiled. "Come on in," he said. "Blair's almost ready. Do you want anything to drink?" 

"Um, no," he said nervously. "I, uh, thought Blair lived alone." 

"Blair's my roommate," said Jim instantly. "We do some work together." 

The other man looked instantly relieved. "Oh, okay. That makes more sense. Blair just never mentioned you, that's all." 

//Gee, thanks, Sandburg.// "What did you say your name was?" 

"Oh, sorry. Blake. Blake Robertson." He held out his hand, which Jim awkwardly shook. 

//What do you think I am, his father or something? Blake and Blair-- that's just way too cute.// "So where did you and Blair meet?" 

"We--" 

Just then Blair peeked out of his room, holding the pair of brown leather shoes in his hand. "What was that, Jim?" He stilled as he saw Jim wasn't alone. "Blake! What are you--? Um, Jim, have you two met?" 

"Yes, Blake introduced himself to me. Are you ready to go?" 

Blair nodded and pulled his shoes on, still looking more than a little nervous. "Yeah." Then he smiled at Blake. "You remembered the tickets, right?" 

Blake patted the front pocket of his shirt. "Yep," he said. "And if we don't head off right away we're going to be late. It was, uh, nice meeting you, Jim." 

"Yeah, you too," said Jim. 

"Um, Jim..." began Blair. 

"We'll talk later, Sandburg," said Jim, softening his words with half a smile. "Have a good time." 

As they left the apartment, Jim saw them link hands before the door closed. Sighing, he went back into the living room and opened his newspaper once again.  
  


* * *

It was two o'clock in the morning when Blair tried to sneak back in. Jim heard the noise at the door and woke from his light sleep to see who it was. Somehow he already knew it was Blair, something about the cadence of his walk or the rhythm of his breathing had imprinted itself on Jim's subconscious and he could recognize them anywhere. He snorted involuntarily, amused at Blair's attempts to be silent. "I'm awake, you know," he said once Blair was through the door.

Blair jumped and then turned toward the living room. "Jeez, Jim, you almost gave me a heart attack there. What are you doing in here so late?" 

"I was watching TV, I fell asleep in here." //That was lame. He knows as well as I do that I can't fall asleep if something is still on. And besides, the TV is already off.// He looked at the silent box guiltily. "Guess I must've turned it off before I fell asleep." Blair gave Jim his most skeptical look. "You think I was waiting up for you?" 

"Weren't you?" 

"Why would I do that?" 

"I don't know, you tell me." 

Blair was quickly going from surprised and bemused to suspicious and angry. Jim knew he needed to diffuse the situation as soon as possible. "I *was* waiting for you to get home so we could talk," he admitted. "But I didn't mean to fall asleep here. And I didn't expect you to be home so late." He stood up and stretched. "I guess I'll go upstairs. Good night." 

"Jim?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Um, aren't you going to ask about my date?" 

Jim thought about it, and then shook his head. "Not right now. I'm not sure I'm in any mood to hear about your dream man." 

He made a motion to head for the stairs to his bedroom, but Blair grabbed his arm. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing. I'm glad you made it home all right. Can we talk in the morning? I'm tired and you ought to be too." 

"All right," said Blair grudgingly. "Get some sleep. Maybe it'll put you in a better mood, man." 

//Not likely.// Jim took the stairs two at a time and wished, not for the first time, that he had a door to close. Not that he needed one, but it would have felt better than just leaving himself open like this. As soon as he heard Blair go into the bathroom he stripped off his clothes and crawled into the bad. Half of him wished that Blair had pushed him harder to talk, and the other half was grateful that he didn't have to look any more closely at his reasons for waiting up. Before Blair had even left the bathroom, Jim was asleep.  
  


* * *

Jim could hear Blair tossing and turning in his bed and realized that neither one of them was going to get any more sleep. Glancing at the clock, he saw it was just after six. //God, less than four hours of sleep. Good thing neither one of us has to work today.// Getting out of bed, he pulled on a pair of cutoff jeans before heading downstairs.

Quietly he padded to Blair's door. "You up, Chief," he asked softly, opening the door a crack. Blair was tangled up in his sheets, his blankets kicked off and his arms wrapped around a pillow. He moaned. "You up?" 

"You know I am," he mumbled, pushing himself up from the bed and rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" 

"Six." 

"Six? Oh, man, *what* are we doing up at six in the morning?" He met Jim's eyes and immediately the question became rhetorical. He nodded and got up out of the bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before following Jim into the kitchen. 

"You hungry?" asked Jim, starting the coffeemaker. 

"Not really," said Blair. "Could use a cup of tea, though." Jim put the kettle on the stove without a word and leaned against the counter. "You doing okay?" asked Blair. Jim nodded. "All right, go ahead, Jim. We both know something's on your mind. Why don't you just come out with it?" 

"Um, how was your date?" 

"It was good," he replied. "We had a good time." 

"Oh yeah. So, um, you know..." 

"Jim, come on man, it's not like we're two aliens who went out and performed some bizarre moon ritual sacrificing a couple of innocent co- eds or something. We went to a play and then we went to a club afterwards. It was just a nice, normal first date." 

"So you guys didn't...?" 

"Didn't what, Jim? Eat? Sneeze? Wear studded leather? Fuck? What?" Jim looked more than mildly embarrassed and Blair decided to let him off the hook. "If you're asking if I slept with him, the answer is no. I did not sleep with him. And I don't have any *intention* of sleeping with him anytime soon." 

Jim looked relieved. "I just can't imagine..." //No...the problem is I *can* imagine.// 

Blair laughed. "Well, good! I don't *want* you imagining that stuff, man! This is *me* we're talking about." 

"Yeah...that's the part I'm having trouble forgetting." 

Blair stared at him. "Jim, what's this all about? I know you're not comfortable and I'm sorry. But..." 

"I guess I just don't...understand. You know? I mean--what do you do together?" 

Blair shook his head wearily. "I already told you that. Just...stuff. Dates. We go out and have fun. It's not any different than anyone else, Jim. I know, I know, it seems like it is. Trust me, I've heard *that* one before. But it's not." 

"Did you...?" 

"Jim! How detailed do you expect me to get here? Did we kiss? Yes. Did we make out? A little. Did we dance, drink, eat, laugh? Constantly. What else can I tell you?" 

They were interrupted by the whistle of the kettle, startling both of them. Jim turned and poured Blair's tea while Blair wandered over to the dining room table and sat down. After grabbing his own cup of coffee, Jim set Blair's tea in front of him and joined him at the table. "You don't need to tell me anything else, Blair. I'm sorry I asked anything in the first place." 

"No, no," said Blair. "I shouldn't react like this. I want you to understand. Wouldn't do me any good to have you freaking and kicking me out or anything." He managed a half-hearted smile, which Jim returned. 

"I wouldn't kick you out. Even if you *were* an alien out performing bizarre moon rituals. Hell, for all I know you do that already. Where *were* you last Tuesday?" 

Blair laughed. "I'll never tell!" He relaxed and took a sip of his tea. "Is that...everything?" 

"Yeah, I guess. For now, anyway. Just be patient with me, would you? I'm trying here." 

"I know you are, man." Blair stood up from the table suddenly and Jim looked at him, alarmed. "Hey, I'm just going to get dressed. Why don't we go watch little morning TV, maybe catch a movie this afternoon? How does that sound?" 

"Sounds like a day off," said Jim. "Can we pick a smaller theatre this time? Less people? Last time we went I had a headache for days afterward." 

"Yeah, sorry about that," offered Blair. "I think I can pick out something." Jim watched him walk into the bedroom. Watching TV, hanging out together, going to a movie. Hell, it was almost like Sandburg was dating *him*. Shying away from that uncomfortable thought, he stood up and brought their drinks into the living room, digging the remote out of the couch cushions and turning the television on. 

"Sandburg," he called out so that Blair could hear him from his bedroom. "You're cleaning this mess up today!" 

"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," muttered Blair under his breath. 

"I heard that!" Blair's laughter this time would have been audible to anyone with even normal hearing. "Anything that's left in here after lunch, I get to dispose of myself." 

Blair peeked out of his room. "Make it 8 pm and you've got a deal." 

Jim pretended to think about it. "All right, 8 pm. But not a minute later." He relaxed into the couch cushions and tried not to think about anything at all. It didn't hurt that the phone rang. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey Jim," came Stephen's voice on the other end of the line. "How are you doing?" 

"Oh! I'm fine, how about you?" 

"Not too bad. Listen, what are you up to today?" 

"Not too much, why do you ask? 

"Well, I managed to wrangle a couple of tickets to the game this afternoon. I thought maybe we could try the brotherly bonding thing again. What do you say?" 

Jim looked towards Blair's door, where he had popped back inside to finish dressing. "Today?" 

"Yeah, is that a problem?" 

"Well, today Blair and I were kinda going to have a day to ourselves. You know, hang out, watch some TV, talk." 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have to pass this time. Not that I don't want to go," he added quickly. "It's just a bad day." 

"Well, what about tomorrow. Want to get together for dinner?" 

"Dinner? Yeah, sounds good. I'd like that." 

"Well, I guess I'd better let you go then...how about I give you a call after lunch. You know, finalize everything." 

Jim smiled to himself. "What, that'll give you enough time to make reservations, book a limo, and write it off as a tax deduction?" 

He could almost hear his brother blushing on the other end of the line. "Something like that. Tomorrow then?" 

"Tomorrow, confirmed Jim. "I'll see you then." Hanging up the phone, he watched Blair's door until he came out again. They didn't have a lot of time to do things anymore, and he valued the time they *did* manage to spend together. Everything that had been bothering him before had slipped from his mind, and he could only anticipate the day ahead.  
  


* * *

"Jim, are you listening to me?"

"Of course I am, Carrie." He turned to her and smiled blandly. She didn't seem to notice. 

"Well, it doesn't matter to me what we do this weekend. Whatever you want to do, I want to do." She turned her vapid smile on him. Jim didn't even bother to hide the fact that he was rolling his eyes.  
  


* * *

It was another week before Blair even brought Blake up again. Jim knew that they had gone out almost every night, but Blake had never come up to the apartment and Blair hadn't said anything about it. Jim was grateful for that, but knew that it wasn't fair to Blair to make him live like this. Blair thought Jim was upset at finding out his roommate was bisexual, but he was wrong.

"Listen, Jim," said Blair, lounging on the couch with a journal in his hands. "I've been thinking." 

"About rain forest rituals?" asked Jim, finishing setting the table. 

Blair frowned, then looked at the front cover of the journal and got the reference. "I was thinking about Blake and me actually." Jim stiffened at the name, then willed himself to relax. 

"Getting serious, huh," he found himself saying, almost resigned to the fact. 

"Um, yeah," said Blair. He shifted uncomfortably and set the journal down on the floor next to him. "You okay with that?" 

"Does it matter?" 

"It does to me." 

Jim rubbed the back of his head with one hand and leaned on the table with the other. "Yeah, I'm okay with that," he said finally. "What do you mean by 'serious'?" 

"Well, you know that ball that everyone's going all ape over?" 

"Yeah..." 

"I was thinking about taking Blake with me. As my date." 

Jim nodded slowly. "You're sure about that?" 

"You think it's a bad idea?" 

"I don't think it's a *bad* idea, Chief. As a matter of fact, I think it's very brave. You know you're going to get a lot of, well, ..." 

"Shit, Jim. I'm going to get a lot of shit. Yeah, I know that, how could I not?" He looked over the back of the couch and gave Jim a lopsided grin. "But sometimes these things are worth it." 

"Yeah, I guess they are. Well, it's not like you need my permission or anything." 

"No...but I wouldn't mind your blessing, man. You have to work with me..." 

"You want my blessing? You got it." He rubbed the back of his neck with a hand and stood up. "And I'll stand behind you whatever happens." 

"Thank you, Jim. That means a lot." 

//I guess it does.// Jim toyed with a fork at one of the placesettings, pushing down on the tines so that it rocked back and forth. //What would it be like if it were me you wanted to show off to the Cascade police department?// It was all too easy to picture Blair and his boyfriend together...and it still made him more than a little uncomfortable. But it wasn't because Blair was with a man, not anymore.  
  


* * *

"And my *sister*'s name is Andrea. Get it? Sandy and Andy? No? Well, my *parents* thought it was cute at the time seeing as we were twins. Well, anyway, my sister and I were in this store sometimes and seeing as how we were twins and all they kept on trying to put us in the *same* clothes and the *same* shoes and we just *hate* that you know, cause just because we're twins doesn't mean we're the *same* you know? I mean, she's all outgoing and talkative and I'm the shy one. I mean if you *saw* us together, you'd *totally* know the difference. You got any more Pepsi?"

"Uh, Sandy, I need to go home early. I think I left my oven on..."  
  


* * *

"Hey, Jim, you gonna come for drinks with us after work?" called Brown from the other side of the bullpen.

"Yeah, sure," he called back. "Blair?" 

Blair shook his head. "I've got a date tonight," he said. "Maybe next time?" 

"Sure, next time," said Jim to him quietly. 

Brown laughed loudly. "Another date? Who is it this time? Dragon Lady again?" 

Blair made a face, and Brown laughed even harder. "I am *so* over her," he said, carefully avoiding mentioning the name of his actual date. "If I ever do anything that stupid again, just tie me up somewhere and don't let me go until I come to my senses, okay?" 

"Yeah, yeah, we've all heard that one before, Sandburg." Jim gave him a hard pat on the shoulder as he crossed the room to Brown's desk. "So where are we headed?" 

"Oh, I don't know. We'll figure it out on the way. You need a ride?" 

"I got the truck," said Jim. 

"Ummmm, about the truck, Jim..." 

"What did you do to my truck, Sandburg?!" 

"Nothing!" Blair threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I was just hoping...since my car's in the shop again..." 

Jim rolled his eyes. "You want to borrow it?" 

"Whoa," said Brown. "You crazy, man?" 

"You want to borrow *my* truck to cart around your date?" 

"Uh...yeah..." said Blair, his voice becoming lower and lower. 

Jim thought about it...much to the shock of everyone present. "If there is so much as a single scratch on it when you get back..." he said finally. 

"Thanks!" Blair wrapped his arms around Jim in an impromptu hug and then headed for the door. 

"You aren't going to get far without the keys, Sandburg," teased Brown. 

"Already got a set," said Blair casually. "Thanks again, Jim." 

"I mean it about the scratches--a single mark and your ass is mine!" 

Brown waited until Blair was safely in the elevator before saying anything. "You gave him a set of keys to your truck?" 

"You know," explained Jim, "in case I lose mine, or there's an emergency, or whatever. Looks like I'll be needing that ride after all. That's okay?" 

"I offered didn't I?" Brown grabbed his coat off the hook. "Let's get outta here. I've seen enough of this place for today." 

Jim put his own jacket on and follow him into the just-returned elevator. Taggert and Van Haute followed right behind them. "You know, I think you give the kid a little too much freedom," said Joel. "You oughta crack down on him, set some ground rules..." 

Jim laughed out loud. "You must be the only person Blair hasn't complained to about my house rules," he explained. "But it was self- preservation! *Some*one had to house train him." 

Joel grinned and shook his head. "Sure, sure, so you say." 

"Hey, go easy on him, guys," said Jim, even though he knew the teasing was good-natured and that they would have said the exact same things to Blair's face. 

"This *is* easy!" said Ryf with a wicked smile. "You should hear us when we're hard on him." 

Jim just shook his head and waited for the elevator to hit the ground floor.  
  


* * *

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

Jim looked at his half-empty glass and dizzily shook his head. "Nope," he replied, not noticing the slur in his word. 

Brown nodded and downed the rest of his own drink. "Me neither. Where'd everyone go?" 

Jim looked around. "Left," he said, shrugging. "Left without us." 

"Maybe they went to get more to drink?" 

"Don' need it. We're in a bar, Ray." 

"Oh, yeah." He picked up the bottle that sat between them and poured himself another drink, downing it instantly. "You know, love sucks." 

"What?" 

"Love sucks. My woman, you know, Elise? She's carrying on with Callahan from internal affairs. Didja know that?" 

"No." Jim finished off his own drink, but didn't refill it. "How'd ya find out?" 

"Saw it. Never said nothing to her yet." 

"How come?" 

"Dunno." Brown shrugged. "Don't know how. She's got someone else, she'll leave on her own." 

"Yeah, that's what they do." 

"You lose someone like that? Oh, Carolyn. Who'd *she* screw around with?" 

"Not Carolyn. Blair." 

The moment the word was out of Jim's mouth they both stilled for a moment. The effect of the alcohol drained from his body as he realized what he said. And what it meant. 

"Wait...wait..." 

"Blair?" said Brown into his empty glass. "You love Blair?" 

"I..." //Blair? I love Blair?// "Yeah, I guess I do. But he doesn't know and now he's with someone else." Jim pressed his forehead against the bar for a moment then raised it again. "Pass me that bottle, would you?" 

"Blair," repeated Brown dazedly. He took a long swig from the bottle before dangling it in Jim's direction. "Blair's a man. Isn't he?" 

Jim glanced at Brown sideways, shaking his head but stopping quickly when the room began to spin. "Yeah. Blair's a man. Whaddaya know." The bottle didn't leave Jim's hand, even when Brown made a grab for it. "Who woulda thought?" 

"So anyway...what do I do about...uh...about Elise. Elise and that Callahan?" 

"Damned if I know," said Jim. "Damned if I know."  
  


* * *

Jim stumbled over the last step and literally fell into his bed. Groaning aloud, he tried to make his legs follow the rest of his body onto the mattress. It didn't work on the first try. Or the second. Finally he just gave up and, grabbing a pillow on his way down, slumped to the floor.

It was only after ten minutes of loud groaning, tossing and turning that Blair made his way up the stairs to find out what was going on. The sight of Jim sprawled on the floor threatened to bring on whoops of laughter. Those he quickly silenced. "Jim, man, is everything okay?" 

"Hurts." 

"What was that?" 

"The floor...hurts. Like it's all full of bumps...and...they're poking me." 

"Why don't you get into bed?" 

"Can't." 

Blair sighed. "All right, first thing we've got to do is get you into bed. I'm gonna pull you up, Jim. All you've got to do is relax into my arms. Can you do that?" 

"Yup." 

"All right. One...two...three... Up, Jim, up." Blair managed to haul Jim onto the bed and collapsed next to him for a moment, panting. "God you're heavy," he complained, sitting up and dangling his legs off the side of the bed. 

"Nuh uh." Jim snuggled into his pillows and closed his eyes. "Come back." 

"Jim, how much did you have to drink?" 

"Dunno." 

"Are the blankets really soft, Jim?" 

"Uh huh," mumbled Jim contentedly. 

"No, Jim, are they *really* soft? Kinda like the floor was really bumpy?" 

"Dunno." 

Blair shook his head. Jim wasn't going to be able to answer *anything* until morning. Pulling a blanket up to cover him, he quietly made his way back down the stairs. Before he even reached the bottom of the stairs he could hear Jim's snores begin. Thanking all the gods he could think of that he wasn't the one with Sentinel hearing, he slipped into his room and shut the door.  
  


* * *

"Shut up!" called Jim down the stairs, half yelling and half moaning. He put a pillow over his head, but he could still hear Blair tapping away at his keyboard.

"Sorry," said Blair, but the sounds didn't diminish. 

After a few more minutes of that, Jim gave up. "What time is it?" he called down. 

"Look at your clock," was Blair's reply. 

"Don't wanna open my eyes!" He could hear Blair's low chuckle, and heard his footsteps from the kitchen to the living room thunder in his ears. 

"It's just past noon." 

Jim groaned and put the pillow back over his head. "Wake me up when it's tomorrow." Rather than hearing Blair go back into the kitchen, he heard him start up the stairs to the loft. "Blair?" he said nervously, warningly. "Blair, what are you doing?" 

"Time to get up, man," said Blair loudly, standing next to the bed. "Come on. I've got coffee and lunch for you downstairs." 

"God, no. No food." 

"Yes, get up. We've got to talk about last night." 

Jim paled. "What about last night?" 

"I don't know if you remember, Jim, but I think your senses were right off the scale. How much *did* you have to drink, man?" 

Jim shook his head, then groaned as it began to throb. "I don't remember. Too much." 

Blair laughed, and Jim winced at the sound. "I guessed *that* much. How come? Get dumped?" 

"Yeah something like that." //Why the hell don't you know that I haven't gotten past a first date in months now?// "Got any aspirin?" 

"I've got something better than that," said Blair with a big grin. "I made it myself out of willow bark. Come on downstairs and I'll give you some." 

"Is that in invitation or a threat?" Still grumbling but no longer underestimating the tenacity of his roommate, Jim pulled himself out of the bed, still fully clothed, and stood up. 

"Take a shower, Jim," said Blair immediately, "*then* let's see what we can do for that headache." 

"Whatever you say, Chief." 

A few minutes later Jim stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and another rubbing his hair. "You sure there's no aspirin, Sandburg?" 

"Just drink this," said Blair, pressing a mug into his hand. "And sit down. We need to talk. I mean A, why did you drink yourself into a stupor last night and *don't* give me that bullshit about being dumped, either. And B, what was going on with your senses, man? You were feeling *everything*." 

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," said Jim, draping one towel over the back of a kitchen chair. Rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand, he sat down and put his tea on the table. "Isn't it a little early for an interrogation?" 

"It's after noon, Jim. Be thankful I didn't wake you up at breakfast time. Um, how are you feeling?" 

"Like I just got run over by a Mack truck. What were you expecting?" 

"How about your senses? Everything back to normal?" 

"Ask me again when every little noise stops hammering its way through my head, would you?" 

"Okay, dumb question. But what I'm asking is, how did being drunk affect your senses?" 

"I don't think this is a, you know, scientific interrogation, Sandburg. How are you supposed to tell the effects of being drunk from the effects of stress from the effects of sleep deprivation?" 

"You just leave my job to me, man. Now what was it like last night?" 

"Give it a rest, Sandburg. I don't remember, all right?" Standing up from the table, Jim stormed back upstairs to get dressed as Blair watched, his expression full of shock and confusion. Jim wasn't too sure of his motivations either. //Am I mad because of what Blair *is* asking me, or what he *isn't*?//  
  


* * *

The whispers started as soon as Jim walked into the bullpen Monday afternoon. At first he ignored them, but as soon as he figured out they might be about him, he started tuning in. He did hear his name. And Blair's. But it was the word "fag" that stopped him dead in his tracks.

His eyes flicked to the offender and then down to his desk again. //All right, what the *hell* is going on here?// His eyes quickly scanning the whole room, he saw a number of barely concealed stares. //Something is *definitely* wrong.// Staring down at his work, he focussed in on conversations again, this time picking up on Anderson and Shelby. 

"You mean they're really doing it?" 

"I swear that's what I heard." 

"Jim Ellison? You're bullshitting me." 

"On my mother's grave, man. They're doing it." 

"Oh my *god*." 

Wincing, Jim listened in to what his Captain was saying. 

"Keller, I want you to put a stop to these rumors and I want you to put a stop to them *now*. I don't care what it takes, this has been going on all day. And I *don't* care how they got started. Now get out of here." 

That was a bit of a relief, but only a bit. What the hell had happened, how did everyone find out about this? And how twisted up was it all going to get by the time Blair came in to the station? By the end of the day? He could only sit and dread the possibilities. 

Blair was due at 3, as soon as his office hours were over and he had time to race across town to the station. He'd been pretty punctual, too, lately, despite his active social life. Jim wished he could fault him on that, maybe keep him from going out as much, but he couldn't. At any rate, he didn't want Blair coming into the middle of this. Glancing at the clock he saw it was already past 2. He'd been sitting through over an hour of this and no one had had the guts to talk to him to his face. 

Hitting the speed dial for Blair's office, he got the answering machine. //Where the hell is he?// A second call got the same results. Jim sat back tensely at his desk and waited for what was going to come next. 

"Jim." He looked up to see Craig Anderson standing at his desk. "About you and Blair..." 

"Yes?" Jim's face betrayed no hint that he knew what everyone had been talking about. 

"When the hell did you start sleeping with the kid?" 

Jim should have earned an Oscar for his performance. Spitting his coffee back into his cup and choking slightly, he slammed it to the table and looked up at Anderson with an incredulous expression. "When did I *what*?" 

The room seemed to still around them. Suddenly Anderson looked unsure of himself. "You know..." 

"No, I *don't* know. Blair may be living in my apartment, but he's definitely *not* living in my bedroom. You hear me?" 

"Yeah." He didn't look convinced, but Jim couldn't expect that. "Whatever you say." Before turning on his heel and leaving Jim alone, he gave him a speculative once over and shook his head. "Whatever you say," he repeated. 

Jim rolled his eyes and looked down at his desk, seeking out something, *anything*, to make him look busy. Meanwhile his insides were twisting. //How do they know? How the hell do they know?// The volume in the room rose again once Anderson had walked away, but Jim didn't need to listen in on any more conversations. He already knew what was being said. //He wouldn't have done this. Ray is my friend, he wouldn't have done this.// Any other day he could have believed that without question, but not today. Not after this. 

Blair showed up two minutes shy of 2:30 and was stopped at the door of the bullpen. Jim had been keeping an eye out for him just in case he'd left the office early, but he missed noticing him until he was already halfway through a conversation with McBride. He jumped up in his seat, meaning to stop it in its tracks, but his mind was quick enough to inform him that doing so would probably do more harm than good *before* he barged in on the conversation. 

He waited until Blair came to him. 

"What's going on here, Jim, this is *crazy*. Where do they *get* this stuff? First that call at work and now *this*...one day I'm your kid partner and then suddenly we're having some kind of torrid love affair? Talk about your non sequitur." Blair pulled a chair away from Bradley's desk and sit in front of Jim's. "You okay with this?" 

"Okay? Yeah, I guess. People will pick up on the...the absurdity of the whole thing soon enough." He didn't look at Blair as he spoke. Couldn't. 

Blair lowered his voice. "All I can think is that someone saw me with Blake and, you know, jumped to conclusions. Oh man, if this is because of that then I am *so* sorry, Jim...." 

"Whatever this is, it's not your fault." //Yeah, it's mine.// 

Brown walked over to the them tentatively and spared Blair a very brief glance before leaning in close to Jim and speaking softly. "Listen, Jim, I...I was talking to Ryf this morning and...oh shit, I never meant for this to happen. *I* needed to talk to someone...and I knew I could trust him. I guess someone heard... I'm *really* sorry, Jim." 

"It's not your fault," Jim said wearily. 

Ray didn't look convinced, but he did nod. "I'll catch you later and I mean that." Briefly looking at Blair again, almost guiltily, he turned and swiftly left the bullpen. 

"Um, Jim?" said Blair quietly, a thousand questions in his eyes. For a moment Jim almost thought that Blair had heard the conversation, but quickly convinced himself that he couldn't have. 

"This is getting out of control," said Jim. "Maybe you'd better head back to the loft...there's nothing going on today that can't be put off til another time." 

"Excuse me, Jim, but *why* would I go back to the loft? This is as much my problem as yours and I want to be here to deal with it. All right?" 

"I think I'm going to be taking off myself, Chief. Much as I hate to do it, I can't work like this. I could get more done moving my desk to the middle of the freeway." 

"Now think about this, Jim. How's it gonna look with both of us leaving together early like this?" He shook his head. "Nuh uh. We'd both better stay right here." 

"I'm calling the shots on this one, Sandburg, and I say we leave." 

Blair sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. "No." 

"What?" 

"No, Jim. You are, like, *totally* freaked over this and you are *not* thinking straight. How about you just pull out a file, one that will require you to *leave the station*, and run with it." 

Jim glared at him, and then his expression softened. Blair was right. "I've got a witness to arson over on 17th I've been meaning to contact all week. It's not urgent, but..." 

"That's perfect," said Blair. His customary expression of easy good humor had crept back onto his face, to Jim's profound relief. He couldn't miss the whispers around them, even if he couldn't hear them the way Jim could, but he wasn't letting them get to him. "The rest of this we can talk about later, man."  
  


* * *

It was with a weary sigh that Jim stepped into his own apartment. Even away from the station the rumors had haunted him until his was almost too distracted to do his job. That was when he'd finally convinced Blair that it was time to call it a day and they'd driven back to the loft.

"I've been thinking," said Blair without preamble. 

"Again?" said Jim. "You do that far too often, Sandburg." 

"Ha, ha, Jim." He slipped off his shoes and sat down in front of the television, staring at the blank screen. "No, really, that was pretty harsh today, what was going on at the station. I mean for you. And I was thinking that...you know how I was talking before? About coming out to the station? Well, I'm going to do it. Once they see me with *Blake*, then they'll lay off you." 

//Yeah, either that or they'll think we're in some sort of twisted love triangle.// "Blair, you don't have to..." 

"I know that. But I want to...I'm ready. Don't give me that look--I *have* thought this through. I've been thinking about it since before I even told *you* I was thinking about it. And after today, well, I'm sure. Okay?" 

"Can we talk about this?" 

"Um, yeah, sure. What's on your mind?" 

"I don't want you to think that I need you to do this is all. I can handle the guys at the station. Hell, even after you tell them, they're going to be wondering. You aren't exactly known for fidelity, Chief." 

Blair made a face. "Yeah, I know. Even though I've never cheated on anyone in my life." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, really. Come on, man, what do you take me for? Wait, no, don't answer that. I'm too selfish to do this just for you," he said with a self-deprecating grin. "I want to get this out there so that I don't have to sneak around anymore." 

"You call going out together to all this stuff 'being discreet'?" 

"Well, yeah. It's not like we take long walks in the park together holding hands or anything. Hell, I'm in the park with *you* more often than anyone else. And I want to be able to do that without being afraid that someone's gonna see me." 

"I think I understand." 

"Well, thank you," said Blair. 

"You go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I've told you before, Blair, I'll back you on anything that's this important to you." Blair just smiled at Jim, conveying better without words the amount of thanks and respect he was giving Jim at that moment. "So you're gonna do it at the ball?" 

"Yeah. Hey, what better place? You'll all be there, right?" 

"Ain't that the truth." 

"What about you? You found your date yet?" 

"Nah," said Jim off-handedly, shaking his head. "I had someone in mind, but it looks like they're already going to be busy that night." 

"That's too bad, man. Better luck next time." Flipping his legs off the coffeetable, Blair sat up straighter. "Is it my turn to cook dinner again?" 

"Yep. And no weird sauces this time. I *still* haven't figured out what you put in that last one." 

Blair laughed as he stood up. "I hear you," he said. "Sure thing."  
  


* * *

//Great, so what do I do now. Against all sanity, I go and fall in love with my roommate. My bisexual, male roommate. And what does he do? He falls for someone else. Stuff like this does wonders for a guy's ego.// He knew that Blair didn't know how he felt, that he wouldn't do this to hurt him, but Blair was with someone else now and whether it lasted or not, for the moment Jim was alone with his feelings.

"I don't need to be alone," he said aloud, but couldn't think of anyone he could call who would understand. He couldn't call anyone at the station, and for the last six years of his life what else had there been? Still, he reached for the phone and found himself dialing a number that shouldn't have been familiar to him yet, but somehow came immediately to mind. 

On the fourth ring, the answering machine picked up. "Hi, you have reached 476-3114. I can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name, number and a brief message after the sound of the beep, I'll get back to you as soon as possible... ... ... BEEP." 

After a long pause, Jim started. "Hi Carolyn, it's me. Jim. If you're there, pick up, okay? Carolyn? Guess you're not there, huh. I need to talk to you. Or someone. Or whatever." He paused, then remembered that silence on an answering machine wasn't a good thing. "Oh hell, I'm already on the phone, may as well bite the bullet. I got *big* problems here, Carol. Well, not problems, just... Listen, I'll call you back tomorrow or something. This is just too weird to tell your machine. Okay, yeah....bye." 

Jim shut the phone off and lay it gently onto the coffee table. It would have been good to get some of that stuff off his chest, but it was all still in there--the worry, the anxiety, the hurt, the confusion. There was no one else to call. No one else who would understand, who wouldn't judge. 

Slumping down on the couch, he picked up a magazine off the coffee table. The room was cluttered, the way it always was when he'd let Sandburg slide for a few days, but he couldn't bring himself to care. There were a lot more important things to worry about than empty drink glasses and scattered notes. 

The words didn't make much sense when he tried to read them; most of the time his eyes just glazed over and looked past them whenever his thoughts began to wander. It was impossible not to think about it now. Impossible not to think about him. He didn't know how long he sat there, his thoughts going round and round in circles. 

A heavy knock at the door jolted Jim from his half-dazed state. Closing the magazine, he stood up and answered it, opening it just a crack to see who was on the other side. "Jim, let me in," said Simon firmly. 

"Simon! What are you doing here?" 

"Your ex-wife called me. Imagine that. Now will you please open this door?" Jim opened it speechlessly and Simon went straight to the tap, pouring himself a glass of water. Once he'd drained the whole thing, he placed the cup on the counter and turned towards Jim. "So you want to tell me why Carolyn felt the need to call me from San Francisco just to tell me you needed to talk?" 

"What exactly did she say?" asked Jim carefully. 

"Not a bloody thing," said Simon, "but to be honest Jim I was thinking about checking in on you anyway. What with the vicious rumor mill and you leaving early... I was a little worried." 

"Well..." began Jim, not knowing where to start or even *if* to start at all. 

"Is that what this is all about? You know as well as I do it'll all blow over in a couple of days. Most of those guys wouldn't know friendship if it bit them on the ass." 

"Simon...that's not..." Jim looked Simon in the eye. He couldn't read people like Blair could, but he was still a pretty fair judge of character. Something had always told him Simon could be trusted. "I mean, we really are..." 

"You mean to tell me you and Sandburg...are an item?" 

"No," said Jim quietly. "Blair's seeing someone else. Another guy." 

Simon shook his head. "I need to sit down," he said, pulling out a chair from under the kitchen table. "Sandburg's gay?" 

"He's bi," clarified Jim, sitting down across from him. "And, um, so am I." Gradually he brought his eyes up from where they had been staring at the table grain, and managed to look at his friend. 

Simon just looked back. "You are." It was a statement, and Jim gave him the time he needed to think about it. "I didn't know that." 

"Neither did I." 

Simon nodded slowly. "Start at the beginning, Jim." 

"I...I need to know that I'm talking to a friend first, Simon." He found himself straightening the placemats nervously, then the salt and pepper shakers, and willed himself to be still. 

"I've never been anything else," said Simon immediately. 

"All right then...what should I do?" 

"About?" 

"About the fact that I'm...I'm in love with my roommate." 

"You never said anything about love, Jim. I don't have the greatest track record in that area." 

"Yeah, well neither do I. And considering that Blair seems pretty committed to this other guy, I think that trend is going to hold." 

"I thought Sandburg was dating that perky little redhead..." 

"Who, Meg? They broke up a couple of weeks ago. Right before he met Blake, I think. Or right after." 

"Jim." 

"What?" 

"You're avoiding the subject." 

Jim's glare only lasted a moment before he realized the Simon really was going to push this one, and that he wanted him to. "The beginning, right?" Simon nodded. "I don't know where that is. If I had to pick one point in time, it would have to be...oh, *I* don't know. It was about a month ago when Sandburg told me he was bi." 

"He just sorta came out and told you?" 

Jim smiled. "So to speak. I can across some...evidence. He didn't really have much choice. But that was all fine." 

"Until you realized that you wanted him." 

Jim winced. "Do you have to put it like that, Simon?" 

"Oh, and how *else* am I going to put it? Look, Jim, I don't care whether you are gay, straight, bi or celibate. What I *do* care about is how it affects your work and your happiness. You're upset and it shows. So talk." 

"There's nothing to talk about. I fell in love with Blair. He didn't fall in love with me. End of story." 

"*Beginning* of story," amended Simon. "How do you know he didn't fall for you?" 

"Well, the fact that he's with someone else was my first clue, Simon..." But Simon was already shaking his head. "What?" 

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe he just didn't tell you? You aren't exactly the most approachable person, you know." 

"Simon, he would have said something. Trust me, I gave him plenty of chances." Simon didn't look convinced. "He can *talk* to me, Simon. He's always been able to. It just wouldn't be like him not to say anything." 

"People in love do strange things sometimes." 

"Love." Jim snorted. "Look, if Blair is in love with anyone, it's Blake, all right?" 

"All right," said Simon. "So...?" 

"So what the hell do I do now?" 

"That's easy," said Simon. "Tell him." 

"Tell him? Are you kidding?" 

"If you don't tell him, you're going to be like this for weeks and I, for one, don't intend to put up with that. You don't know what he's going to say, Jim, but you *do* know that he's not going to react *negatively* to it. What have you got to lose?" 

//Only my self-identity.// "I don't know." 

"Nothing. That's the answer, Jim. Nothing." Jim was silent. "So what *are* you going to do?" 

Jim thought about it. "I guess I'm going to tell him," he decided. //Someday.// 

"Good," said Simon. "So tell me, Jim, you got anything to drink in here stronger than water?" 

"You looking for a beer, Simon?" 

"A beer? Thanks, Jim, a beer would be great. After all, I did just haul myself all the way here for you." Simon put his feet up on the chair next to him as Jim got up to go to the fridge. "Now maybe both of us can relax a little."  
  


* * *

"One more day, Ellison. You've got one more day; what've you got?" Anderson leered at him, leaning on Jim's desk with both hands.

"I might surprise you this year," said Jim lightly. //Yeah, by not showing up.// 

"You *always* surprise us," he said, pushing himself off the desk and beginning to walk backwards away from the desk, "but you never disappoint." 

Jim tapped his pen against his desk and shook his head. "We'll see," was all he said. Picking up his phone, he called Blair's office, but there was no answer. //That's strange...well, he could be anywhere, really.// "Hey, Craig." 

"Yeah?" 

"You want to grab some lunch with me?" 

"You aren't going out with the kid?" Jim didn't have to wince at the terminology--Craig was one of the first people to drop the rumour that was still spreading through the station like wildfire. He wasn't sure, though, whether it was because Craig believed him, or whether he just didn't think it mattered. 

"He's busy at work today," said Jim simply. 

"Sure then, if you don't mind burgers..." 

Jim grinned. "I'd *love* a burger!"  
  


* * *

Blair wasn't back in his office after lunch, nor was he there when Jim called in the middle of the afternoon. It wasn't particularly worrysome, considering how often Blair would get excited about some project going on somewhere else in the university and get himself wrapped up in that, but Jim just wanted to talk to him today.

It was the fact that he wasn't able to talk to him that finally pushed Jim to a decision. He was going to tell him. He was going to tell Blair that night, the moment he saw him, how he was feeling. And nothing was going to stop him. 

Of course, that was easier said than done. The words he needed to say had been forming themselves into loose sentences in his head, but one look at Blair would probably jumble them again. And one look at Blair with Blake on his arm would probably banish them altogether. 

"You planning on leaving any time before midnight?" Jim lifted his head at the sound of Brown's voice and realized that the populace of the station had *seriously* thinned since the last time he'd looked. 

"What time is it?" 

"A little after six," he said. "Working hard?" 

"Uh yeah," said Jim. "I guess I am getting out of here." Last minute calls to the university and the loft yielded no results and resignedly Jim grabbed his coat and left the station. 

Blair wasn't at the loft when he got there either, but the light on the answering machine was blinking and Jim went there before he even took off his shoes to see if Blair had called. "Hi Jim," Blair voice came from the machine. "Listen, it's about ten right now and I'm heading off with Blake for the day. Actually, I'm not going to be back until late tomorrow, so I guess I won't see you til the ball! I'm as curious as everyone else about who you're bringing, man. Guess it's the big day for *both* of us. Okay, well, talk to you tomorrow then. Bye." 

Jim stared at the machine for a few long moments before he even started to breath again. Blair wouldn't be back until the ball--he couldn't tell him. He'd had this fantasy in his head that Blair would find out that Jim loved him and drop Blake on the spot and then they would go to the ball together where everyone would be totally cool and supportive. That was not going to happen. 

Kicking off his shoes and leaving them on the floor in front of the couch, he tried to find something to do to take his mind off Blair and Blake and what they were probably doing right at that moment. Things he wanted Blair to be doing to *him*. He'd never really let himself think about that part of it before, but suddenly it was popping uninvited into his mind. And wouldn't leave for the rest of the evening, and on through the night. 

Jim woke up in the morning feeling like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. His entire body ached as though he had tossed and turned all night and then ended up sleeping with his body twisted around itself in a positions only a contortionist should ever try. 

Automatically he tried to locate Blair with his senses, the same way he did every morning. The fact that there was nothing there jarred him a little until he remembered that Blair hadn't come home last night, and that Blair not coming home might become a more frequent occurrence. 

Less than twelve hours until Blair was going to announce to the world that he was in love with a man, and that man was not Jim.  
  


* * *

Jim pulled nervously at his bow tie as he stood outside the doors to the Cascade Centennial Auditorium. He'd been getting nods and smiles from the various officers that he knew, but no strange glances. No one found it odd that he was outside waiting for someone and not inside with the rest of the guests. That is, until Simon came along.

"Jim! I'd like you to meet Charlene. Charlene, this is one of my best officers, Jim Ellison." Jim held out his hand to the woman standing at Simon's side and forced a smile. Simon place a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you come inside with us, Jim," he said. Jim could read Simon's face, and he could see that Simon knew who he was waiting for. 

"I..." he began, putting up a half-hearted protest. A single shake of Simon's head quelled it. 

"Come on, Jim, I'll buy you a drink." His arm moved around Jim's shoulders propelling him into the building. 

Jim's drink was gone in a single long gulp and he was ready for another almost immediatly. It seemed easy now, to tell Blair how he felt in the privacy of the loft. Here, everything was different and he didn't know if he could do it. Simon's hand the found it's way to his forearm again reminded him that he was not sitting alone. 

"Jim, Charlene and I are going to dance. Are you going to be all right?" 

"I'm fine, Simon." Like hell he was fine. Not only were his thoughts all over the map, but so were his senses. His sense of taste was completely gone...and smell. But what worried him most was that his hearing was dropped to normal levels and try as he might he couldn't bring it back up again. And the harder he tried, the worse it got. //Where the hell is Blair?// 

As he watched Simon and his date dance, he caught Blair's form in the corner of his eyes and his gaze was drawn immediately to the door. There they were, Blair and Blake standing there in their matching tuxes, holding hands and smiling as though they didn't have a care in the world. 

Jim didn't even think. One minute he was looking at them and the next he was on his feet and walking towards them singlemindedly. Blake gave Blair a lingering kiss before moving away in the direction of the washroom. Blair looked up and caught Jim's eye. 

"Jim! You're here! Boy, am I glad to see you." Blair held out his arms to give his roommate a hug but Jim ignored them. 

"Blair you can't do this." 

"What? Oh *man*, I thought you were okay with this. Jim, please, you *said* you were okay with this!" 

Jim held up a finger to Blair's lips. By now the scene had caught the attention of almost everyone in the room. "Listen to me, Blair, you can't do this now, not with Blake." 

"Talk to me, Jim! What's going on here?" 

"Blair. Blair, I love you." Leaning forward, Jim kissed him. The moment his lips touched Blair's for the first time, his senses shot back up again so that every minute sensation was an experience in itself. He didn't even think about what would happen beyond this point, he just surged ahead. He never expected Blair to start kissing him back until it happened, and his soft lips parted to let Jim inside. 

When they drew apart, he could see that Blair's eyes had widened with shock. "Jim?" 

"Come home with me, Blair. Please." He ran a hand over Blair's hair and let it rest on the back of his head. 

Blair's eyes flicked to the washroom and back. "I can't just...Blake's here and..." 

Jim's eyes sank along with his hand. "I see." 

"Jim, wait." As Jim began to turn away, Blair pulled him back and kissed him again, softly. "I'll come home early," he whispered. "As soon as it's polite to go. And then we'll talk about this, okay?" His eyes were pleading, and not even Jim could miss the conflict in them. Nor could he miss the way Blair's heart was beating frantically and his breathing had quickened. 

"Okay," he said, braving a smile. He ran his hand over Blair's hair once again, and Blair gave him the sweetest, dearest smile he could ever have imagined. 

"Later, Jim," he whispered. "I promise." Jim nodded and backed away for the door. He hoped he could find his way, because his mind was full of too much else to worry about trivial things like bodies and walls. 

Blake returned, oblivious to the scene, and Jim finally pulled his eyes away from Blair. Anderson's hand on his arm stopped him before he made his escape. "Ellison," he said, and Jim braced himself. He was astonished to find that Craig's eyes were dancing. "Once again a surprise," he said, "and definitely not disappointing."  
  


* * *

Jim could easily hear the door click shut, sitting with his eyes closed in the middle of the couch. He didn't even tense as he heard--felt-- Blair move closer to him. "You've been practicing those breathing exercises, huh," said Blair softly.

Jim slowly exhaled. "Yeah." 

"You look relaxed." 

Jim blinked his eyes open. "You don't," he said. "I'm sorry I embarassed you tonight." 

Blair shook his head. "You didn't embarass me, Jim. I'd already decided to come out. You...about what you said..." 

"If you're asking if I meant it, the answer is yes. But I don't want you to feel like you're...*obligated* to do something just because I have, you know, feelings for you. I mean, this is still your home, whatever you do..." 

"Hey, it's gonna take a little more than a declaration of undying love to make me back out on *this* cushy little arrangement," joked Blair. "You mind if I...?" He gestured to the empty space on the couch. 

"Go ahead," he said blandly. "Did you have a good time tonight?" 

"Not really." 

"Oh yeah. How come?" 

"You weren't there." 

Jim eyeballed him skeptically. He hadn't spent all evening coming to terms with what had happened only to have Blair start toying with his emotions. He was fine with it when Blair was with those nameless, faceless women, but with him it was another thing entirely. "You were with Blake." 

"Jim," said Blair, staring at his hands as his fingers twisted around one another, "I have to tell you something." 

"It's okay, Blair, I understand." 

"No, you don't. Blake is wonderful. He's smart and gorgeous and he's a, um, great kisser. He's fun to be with and great to talk to. But...he's not you." 

Jim shook his head. "You don't have to do this." 

Blair snorted in amused frustration. "You are *so* not listening to me, man." Turning quickly he took Jim's face in both of his hands and kissed his lips soundly. Jim's eyes widened in shock and Blair gave him half a grin. "Are you starting to get it now?" 

"Ummm..." 

"Let me give you another hint." Blair kissed him again, and this time Jim closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation. It didn't shock him to realize he was kissing a man, but he did notice the subtle differences that made it different from kissing a woman. The feel of the lips. The roughness of the cheeks. The strength in the hands that held his face. He just kept drawing in the sensations until Blair pulled away. 

"I think I'm starting to get it," he murmured, slowly opening his eyes again. 

"I hope so," said Blair, "because if that didn't tell you how I feel about this, I don't know what will. All those days and nights dreaming about you, and then finally giving up... God, Jim, if I *ever* thought you wanted this I would have taken you up on it in a *second*!" 

Jim shook off the tingling sensations in his body that were threatening to make him lose all reason. "We need to talk," he said. 

"I know," said Blair, nodding. Gently he pulled his hands away until they were just looking at one another. 

"What about Blake?" Jim didn't want to ask, didn't want to know, but he had to. 

"I told him...that he was a wonderful person and that I liked him a great deal," said Blair carefully. "And then I told him that I couldn't see him anymore. Because the man I'd been aching for for months was about to come into my life." 

Jim blinked. "For me? All this time?" 

"Jim...I starting wanting you almost from the moment I moved in here. It wasn't just...I mean, I saw you in the morning, and I saw you sick, and cranky, and messy, and compulsive, and everything else that you are every day of your life. It wasn't a physical thing, not entirely. So I sublimated it into friendship." Blair shrugged. "I wasn't easy, but it was easier than telling you." 

"I wish you could have told me." 

Blair shook his head, "No, you don't." 

"I don't?" 

"What would you have done if I'd told you before you were ready? You would have freaked, and then you might never have even considered this. I never though you'd have *any* of these feelings, and if I'd said something too soon you might never have discovered them on your own. Thinking about it now, and thinking that you might never have felt them, it *scares* me, man. No, I couldn't have told you." 

Jim didn't want to admit that Blair was right, so he didn't do it aloud, but inside his head where he kept his deepest thoughts he knew that Blair was telling the truth. "So what is this now, then?" 

"This? Now? How about the start of a beautiful friendship?" 

"We already have that." 

"Then how about the continuation of one." Blair reached out again and touched Jim's cheek gently. He'd never really shown this kind of patience with any of his lovers before, at least not that Jim had seen. It made him feel...cherished. 

"Doesn't this change everything?" said Jim. "Doesn't this change me?" 

"Change you? Change our friendship? No way." Blair stroked his cheek and then lowered his hand to rest it on Jim's knee. "It's just more now, that's all. It's not a change, just sort of a shift. Think of it like shading, Jim. Not black or white, just a different shade somewhere in the middle, just a little ways away from where you were. Does that make any sense?" 

"A little," said Jim, finally smiling. "Enough. I don't think I get this...yet...but it seems to be going ahead whether I understand it or not." 

"I'll help," said Blair. "If you want me to. If we're together." 

"I haven't been able to think of anything else for a while now," admitted Jim. His muscles twitched as he consciously restrained himself from touching. Even the casual touches that he and Blair had shared for so long now carried so much more meaning. He didn't want any misunderstandings, anything before they were completely ready for it. He didn't want anything to mess this up. 

Blair clearly wasn't oblivious to the thoughts that were going through Jim's head; he reached out and took both of Jim's hands into his own. "I think I like it that way. Jim, this isn't going to be easy...for you *or* for me. Let's just, you know, take it slow and see what happens. You okay with that?" 

"Am I okay? That's a tough question." Jim tried to seriously think about the answer but he wasn't thinking, he was feeling. He was feeling the warmth of Blair's hands on his, and the flow of blood that had become faster the more time he spent with Blair. "I don't know," he said. 

Blair nodded and squeezed his hands. "I guess it's a good thing one of us does," he said, smiling. "Whatever happens, Jim, I picked *you*. Or maybe someone else picked us for one another. It doesn't matter, because it happened." He leaned forward again and kissed him on the cheek. "I've wanted you for so long," he whispered in his ear. "I never even dreamed you'd feel anything for me." 

"Well maybe you should have." Jim kissed him fiercely, taking all of his fear and uncertainty and love and putting it into that kiss. Blair drew in a shuddering breath when they drew apart. "Looking back, I wasn't all that subtle." 

"And maybe I was a little too subtle. It doesn't matter. Because we made it, man." Blair began to stand up, pulling Jim up with him. "Maybe we should get a little more comfortable?" 

"Would it be okay if I just wanted to hold you?" asked Jim, his tone both loving and concerned. "If I just wanted to feel you next to me so I could believe that you were really there?" 

"I'm here." 

He began walking towards his room, then changed course and led Jim to the stairs. "You don't mind, do you?" Jim shook his head as they began to ascend. "I just want to curl up with you too," said Blair. "It's been a very long night...and this is the kind of homecoming I've been dreaming about." 

"You'll have to tell me all about it," said Jim. "Tomorrow." 

Jim did fall asleep with his body wrapped around Blair's, but not before they spent many long minutes just kissing and touching and trying to believe that the whole night had been real.  
  


* * *

Jim awoke with Blair's lips busily nibbling at his throat. The first time he tried to say something, his voice refused to cooperate. The second time he managed to say, "Good morning."

Blair looked up at him. "Very good morning," he said, then kissed his lover softly. "Isn't it?" 

"Yes," Jim had to agree, "Very good morning." 

"I guess we're going to talk now, huh." 

Jim nodded a little. "Last night...." 

"Regrets, Jim?" 

"No," he assured him. "Only that I didn't say anything sooner. Last night, Blair, everyone saw. Everyone." 

Blair nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I know. I'd made the decision to come out...but you hadn't. How do you think Simon's going to take it?" 

"Simon already knew." 

"He did?" 

"I told him." As he spoke, Jim's fingers traced little patterns up and down Blair's spine. "I needed someone to talk to...so I could get up the nerve to *tell* you. I called Carolyn...and she decided that Simon was the one." 

"*She* decided. Man, that must've hurt." 

Jim smiled. "It would have been worse if she was wrong...but she isn't wrong very often. Simon knew. So did Brown." 

"Brown..." Blair mused, closing his eyes as the sensation from Jim's roving fingers made his skin tingle. "Is that how the rumour at the station got started?" 

"I guess so," said Jim. "That's what Ray thinks." His fingers reached Blair's waist, hesitated, then began moving upwards again. "It doesn't matter anymore. After all, it's true." 

Blair grinned and kissed him, not letting Jim pull away, and coaxed his lips open. It was almost like their first kiss, hesitant at first, then melting into one another like they were meant to be there. Jim's fingers were still gentle, playing with the tendrils of hair at the base of Blair's head and then meandering slowly downward again. 

"You okay with going back to the station?" asked Blair, licking his lips, his eyes so dilated they began to look black. 

"Doesn't matter whether I'm okay or not," said Jim. "I have to go. I think it'll be easier now...now that it's not a rumour I'm trying to deny." 

Blair fought the sensations that threatened to override his powers of reason to make sure Jim knew what he was talking about. "Jim," he said, "don't kid yourself..." 

"I'm not," Jim reassured him. "I thought this all out for you, remember? Who's gonna react what way, how long it'll last, who's gonna be a problem. I'll probably be wrong. But I've thought about it." 

Blair didn't have any more arguments, and soon Jim's fingers stopped at his waist again. "Jim," whispered Blair huskily. "Don't worry. We both want this, we know that now." 

"Hey, everyone's the same from behind, right," said Jim, trying to reassure himself more than Blair. His hands continued over Blair's cheeks, pressing into them gently and feeling the hard muscle underneath the deceptive softness. 

"Mmm, that feels nice," said Blair, his eyes closing again. His own hands were pressed against Jim's back, holding their bodies together. Any moment now Jim would be able to feel Blair's swelling erection, and he didn't know what would happen then. "I love you, you know." 

Jim stilled, and Blair didn't know if it was from the words or the fact that Jim was faced with hard evidence of Blair's arousal. "I've only imagined this," he said, and Blair felt Jim's limbs begin to relax again. "I've never actually..." 

"I know," said Blair. "That's okay. If you're okay, that is." Jim didn't respond, not with words, but for the first time Jim's body began to really respond to him. It wasn't just loving words and touches, it had become potently sexual. 

"So far, so good," said Jim. "If I, you know, do something wrong...you'll tell me, right?" 

"Jim, you are *not* doing anything wrong," said Blair emphatically. "And if you were by some chance doing something I didn't like...I would tell you. Would you do the same?" 

"Yeah," said Jim, then suddenly his fingers slipped into the crack between Blair's cheeks and explored downwards again. Blair moaned and began kissing and sucking on Jim's neck right at the point beneath the ear on the edge of his jaw. Jim's fingers reached his hole and touched it gently, brushing his fingers against it, back and forth. Then he pressed, just a little, enough to let Blair know he was there. "It that okay?" 

Blair nodded, his face pressed into Jim's neck. Then he reached down and began to pull one of Jim's hands up again. Jim looked at him in confusion until he realized what Blair was doing. Looking directly into Jim's eyes, Blair took Jim's finger into his mouth and sucked it until is was slick with saliva. Then he brought it down again, using his own strenth to press the tip of it into his own body. Jim was the one who groaned and closed his eyes. Blair exhaled softly and let the sensation flow through his body before pressing it in just a little further. 

"God, Blair," was all Jim could say, letting Blair use him and enjoying it as much as his partner. Blair thrust in and out just a little, then let go of Jim's hand. Jim paused a moment, then continued the motion. It was almost tentative at first, but when he saw Blair's eyes close and his lips part he knew he was doing something right. 

He became aware of Blair's hands moving towards him a few moments before they made contact with his chest. Keeping up his own ministrations by sheer force of will alone, he moaned loudly as Blair's thumbs flicked his nipples to sharp peaks, then continued their journey all over his chest until they reached Jim's hips. Blair tapped his fingertips questioningly. 

"Do it," said Jim, loudly and clearly. With only one more moment's pause, Blair let a hand slip between their bodies and wrap around Jim's erection, and the other wrapped around his own. Jim moaned again and Blair smiled. He hadn't expected the other man to be quite so...vocal. He began to stroke, but Jim stopped him. "Too much," he said. 

So Blair just held him, stroking himself in time to the slow thrusts that Jim was still delivering. Soon it wouldn't be enough; soon he wouldn't care if his touch was too much because he *wanted* them both to drive towards orgasm. Unexpectedly, Jim slipped another finger into Blair's body and thrust deeply. Blair himself cried out this time and instinctively began stroking Jim again. He couldn't help it--he was close and he wanted Jim to be too. 

"Blair, too much," said Jim again, his own motions increasing in time with his arousal. 

"I want it to be too much," said Blair, sinking his teeth into Jim's shoulder as he came explosively. Jim gasped, pressing himself into Blair, trying to feel every bit of sensation before he too, spilled himself over Blair's hand. 

Blair let go of them and wrapped his arms around Jim, not quite knowing what to expect. Jim's hands clutched Blair's hips tightly, holding his lover close. "No regrets?" whispered Blair carefully, nervously. 

"None whatsoever," said Jim, taking a deep breath and letting it out again. He nuzzled Blair's cheek with his own and then kissed it roughly. "I still love you." 

"Mmm... and you were worried I wouldn't respect you in the morning." 

"Hey, I never once worried about that," protested Jim, still not letting him go. "Everything else, I worried about. But not that." He yawned loudly and Blair chuckled, snuggling close. 

"I think we could both use another hour or so of sleep," he said softly. Jim's yawn was agreement enough.  
  


* * *

"Blair, you almost ready?" Jim had been reluctant to get out of bed, but in the end his need for a shower had overridden his need to be wrapped around Blair. Half an hour and two short, but hot, showers later, they were ready to head out of the loft for a while. Blair's complaints of feeling claustrophobic weren't really justified, but they *were* shared.

"Yep." Blair came out of his room wearing a T-shirt and jeans with a plaid shirt overtop, and was tying his hair back quickly with an elastic band. He took one look at Jim and grinned. "Man, you look great!" Walking over to him quickly, he grasped Jim's blue tank top with a hand and tilted his head up to kiss him deeply. "You ready?" 

"I think so," said Jim. His entire posture, his entire attitude, had changed from the night before. It was a miracle what a little reassurance could do for a person. Just to know that Blair had felt the same, even without the physical confirmation they had enjoyed, was enough to halt the insecurities that he had been feeling. But he still didn't know who he was. "What were you doing in there for so long?" 

"Oh, I just had to, um, make a phone call." 

"A phone call? If I'd known that I would have..." 

"Listened in," finished Blair. "Why do you think I didn't tell you?" He grinned mischievously. "Let's go then." 

It was a short walk to the park, only a few blocks away, but Jim couldn't say it was a walk free of anxiety. How could he have declared his love in front of a roomful of cops, and then worry *now* about who saw them? Before last night there had only been four people who knew, if you didn't count the rumours. Jim, Simon, Brown...and Stephen. Stephen had taken it pretty well when Jim had told him, all things considered. Maybe he'd already known. The rift between them still hadn't been healed enough for him to really confide in him; this was the first time that Jim had tried. He was going to have to call him up and let him know everything that had happened. 

"Hey, Jim." 

"Yeah?" 

"You want to sit down?" 

"Hang on a sec." Jim looked off into the distance and Blair didn't even bother to look, waiting for Jim to tell him what he was seeing. "It's Brown." 

"Oh? Well let's go over there and say hi." Jim hesitated. "No cold feet now, man. Let's go. It's not like he doesn't know." He tugged on Jim's arm, but Jim stood firm. 

"Now wait a second, Chief. I'll go, but let's not get all gung ho here. Can you try and be, you know, discreet?" 

"Come on, Jim. Give me a little credit here." Blair rolled his eyes, but it was good-naturedly. "Remember why we're out here in the first place." 

"To go for a walk? Get some fresh air?" 

"To remind ourselves that we exist in this world," corrected Blair. "To make sure that whatever is between us when we're alone still exists when we aren't." 

"Deep," said Jim. 

"Honest." 

Blair's eyes challenged him to take those first few steps forward, and he did. "Whatever I feel for you, Blair, doesn't depend on that. It doesn't depend on anything but us." He smiled, and bravely reached out his hand to take Blair's. 

"Jim! Blair!" Ray noticed them coming and walked out towards them. Jim saw Elise pushing their son on the swingset. She looked up at them, but Jim couldn't read her expression. Ray, however, was smiling. "How are you guys doing?" He looked down and gestured at their clasped hands. "I guess you..." 

"Um, yeah," said Jim. 

Brown looked at him. "I'm happy for you," he said. "I know how much you wanted this." 

"Thanks." 

"You too, Blair. It's a bit of a *surprise* I have to admit, but..." He shrugged. "I'm happy for you." Blair just smiled and nodded. "Um, Jim, about the other night? About what we were talking about?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Well, she told me. About how she's been carrying on." 

"She did?" 

Brown nodded. "She did. I don't know what's going to happen...but we're going to try and work it out." 

"Well, that's really great," said Jim. 

"You guys want to come and join us?" Brown gestured to the rest of his family. 

"Um, thanks," said Jim, "but we're just out for a walk. Maybe some other time?" 

"Yeah, we'll have to have you over for dinner some time. Both of you." 

Jim smiled. "That'd be nice." 

"Well, I should go back," said Brown. "Tyler's waiting for his 'big daddy push'." He chuckled a little. "I'll see you guys around the station. And, um, good luck." 

"Thanks," said Jim again to Brown's retreating back. 

"So?" said Blair. 

"So what?" 

"So how do you feel? You just talked to one of your colleagues about your relationship in a mature and respectful manner for the first time." 

Jim rolled his eyes. "Can you stop being an anthropologist for one day and just be my lover?" 

Blair grinned. "Gladly, man."  
  


* * *

Blair saw the familiar car outside the loft as they returned from their walk and smiled. "What's up, Chief?" asked Jim, squeezing his shoulder. "Hey, look--Stephen's here. I wonder what he wants?"

Blair shrugged nonchalantly. "Guess we'll find out in a minute, won't we." He reached out for Jim 's hand when they were almost at the door to the building, and Jim let him take it. "Hey," Blair softly reminded him, "relax. We're in this together." Jim smiled and opened the door, letting Blair through first. Stephen was just inside leaning against the wall, an army green backpack slung over his shoulder. 

"Hey, Stephen!" With his free arm, Jim gave his brother a quick, self- conscious hug. "What's up?" 

"I just came by for a visit," he said. "That *is* okay, isn't it?" 

From the smirk on his face, Jim knew Stephen expected him to say yes. 

The guy sure had come a long way from the uptight executive Jim had become reacquainted with only a couple of months ago. 

"Come on up," said Jim, starting for the stairs with Blair right beside him. It was one thing to know that Stephen approved of their relationship, but it was quite another to be face to face with him, and even the smallest intimacy with Blair made him more than a little self- conscious. He completely missed the conspiratorial look that passed between Stephen and Blair behind his back. 

"Anyone else want something to drink?" he asked as he unlocked the door. 

Blair released his hand and strode into the living room, collapsing on the couch. "Sure, could you get me something?" Jim briefly gave him a disappointed look, then turned into the kitchen. When he'd grabbed two beers out of the fridge and turned back again, he saw that Blair and Stephen were sitting side-by-side on the couch, looking at something. 

"What have you got there?" he asked reflexively, before focusing on it himself. When he realized what they had, he almost dropped the beer. "Hey! What the hell are you doing? You can't look at that!" Dropping the beer to the counter, he raced in and tried to wrestle the photo album from Stephen's grasp. He might have been able to do it, too, if it weren't for the puppy-dog eyes that Blair cast on him. Well, the puppy-dog eyes with the vague threat in them that he would be sleeping downstairs that night. 

"You promised," he said. 

"I did nothing of the sort." Blair flipped the page over and burst out laughing. "Oh man, is that really you?" Jim reached out to flip the album shut, but Blair slapped his hand away. "Good thing you filled out a little!" 

Jim rolled his eyes and squished onto the couch next to Blair. "If you guys are going to insist on humiliating me I'm going to at least be here to defend myself. Can we, uh, skip a few pages here?" 

"Not a chance!" laughed Blair. Then he turned and kissed Jim's lips. "You know I love you, don't you?" 

"Yeah, I know," said Jim without even a glance Stephen's way. "I love you too." He kissed him again, slowly, sensually. "A different shade, you said," he mused, his lips still close to Blair's. "I think I could learn to like this colour." 

\--end--  
  


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